


To Make It Through

by ofhopesanddreams



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Sexual Assault, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-03-08 19:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3220502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofhopesanddreams/pseuds/ofhopesanddreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rose gets kidnapped while at a marketplace, the Doctor discovers that there's a dark side to this planet that he was unaware of, and he needs to find Rose before she becomes part of the 'system'. He does, of course, but the emotional trauma from what her captors did to her before he gets her back isn't something he can fix with anything he has in the infirmary. It'll be a long road to heal, but with the Doctor's support and love, she'll make it through. They both will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is Teen, but the next chapter will push it into Mature. Warnings tba for that one.
> 
> Beta'd by whatwecanfic on Tumblr. =)

The Doctor stood frozen for a moment, staring at the broken pieces of Rose’s new trinket on the ground. The boisterous chatter and bustle of the marketplace behind him faded as everything in his head turned to static. Slowly, he took out his sonic and crouched down, running it over the fragments and watching as the blue light brought them together to look like it was never damaged. Picking it up, he placed it in one of his pockets and stood.

Inhale. Exhale. The Oncoming Storm was threatening to surface, but he needed to stay calm. In the dirt, he could see several deep grooves from where he knew she had kicked and struggled. His jaw clenched. They must’ve used some sort of drug to gain the upper hand so quickly and then carried her, because there were no dragging trails he could follow — the road went back to being a dusty mess of indistinguishable footprints. He rubbed his hands over his face, and made his way quickly through the throngs of people to search nearby stalls for any clues, ignoring the indignant exclamations of those he jostled around impatiently. There was no sign of her.

He had taken Rose here, knowing about the marketplace filled with such a variety of things from different planets, in an attempt to cheer her up after saving a planet but losing an innocent child in the process. The planet was filled with beaches with violet water, forests where the leaves were red, as well as vast mountain ranges with spectacular views of each. There were teleport stations that allowed easy and immediate access to whichever area you wished to see, something which drew in visitors like them. But shortly after arriving they learned that a few non-native species of aggressive, small felines with claws that secreted venom once they made contact had been purposefully brought in to wreak havoc on the people in the village they landed in. The locals were confined to their homes and no one else was supposed to be allowed in. The Doctor soon managed to rig one of the larger teleport stations to transport the creatures back to their own planet once he lured them inside with some pheromones he had procured. 

While he was focused on himself and especially Rose _not_ getting scratched in the process, he attracted a group of onlookers and in the slight chaos a small child, not understanding that these cats were dangerous, slipped past them and was scratched; his small body succumbing to the venom before the Doctor was able to give him an antidote. The family was inconsolable, but placed no blame on them and was thankful for what they’d done for everyone. It was tragic, made worse by failing to find who was responsible for bringing the cats there in the first place, and once back in the TARDIS Rose broke down in his arms, crying until she gave into exhaustion and fell asleep. He held her all night.

They stayed in the vortex for a few days after that, but he could tell she was still affected and so set the coordinates with plans to buy her a gift. What he found was perfect, and the smile on her face and the way she hugged him made his hearts flutter. 

But then he had gotten distracted talking excitedly to a vender, had felt her stroke his arm and caught her smiling fondly at him before wandering away to look at other booths. And now someone had taken her. 

Looking around, he caught sight of a wooded area across the road, and headed over to investigate. There was a creek babbling and weaving its way around fern-like shrubs; tall trees provided shade, and as he walked through them into a clearing he saw small creatures scurry away at his sudden presence. But there was nothing out of the ordinary. The bushes of baby blue flowers held his attention for a moment; small, delicate petals in two layers, the ones on top a bit smaller and raised up slightly, and he thought dimly that Rose would like them. Sighing heavily, he turned away and made his way out, unable to help being angry at himself for wasting time looking in there even though he knew it was worth the look, just in case. In an attempt to make up for lost time, he took off at a run up the road and into town, dodging between aliens and humanoids alike and not apologizing if he clipped shoulders while moving around them.

He jogged down rows of buildings and houses and searched alleyways, but found nothing. It felt like a ghost town, if truth be told, but then, he figured that most everyone was down at the marketplace — something he should’ve taken into account. Finally seeing a young woman wearing a gold collar carved with symbols and embedded with several gems, he began to approach her but before he could speak to her she scuttled back inside. Fists clenched in frustration, he started making his way back down the extensive line of booths.

His time sense was torturing him, as he couldn’t help but keep track of how long it had been since he heard her scream; 3 hours, 10 minutes, and 7, 8, 9 seconds. By the time he made it through the crowd to the general area he heard her from, she was gone. The only way he knew she had been there at all was the sight of her gift on the ground.

He finally resorted to Rose’s “domestic approach” and started asking around the marketplace. Inconspicuous questions had turned to near desperate pleas-bordering-on-demands for where his friend could have been taken. Again and again he was either blatantly ignored, or actually hissed at to leave them alone. 

Standing once again where she had been taken, the Doctor ran his fingers through his hair in agitation and tugged at the strands. He forced his breathing to remain steady, although it had become shallow. Now at 5 hours, 17 minutes, and 23 seconds, his resolve to remain calm and _not_ tear this planet apart to find her was weakening. What could they have done to her in that time…was she still alive? He felt the blood drain from his face at the thought shook his head roughly. Of _course_ she was alive. She _had_ to be alive. Otherwise…

He suddenly got the feeling he was being watched, and turned. A young female was staring pointedly at him, and jerked her head for him to follow her, disappearing behind a tent in the market. He did, and once they were both out of sight (she looked around nervously just to be absolutely certain), she sighed roughly then spoke hurriedly and quietly.

“I only have a moment while my parents are occupied. The girl who was with you–“

“Rose. Her name is Rose,” the Doctor couldn’t help but interject.

“Right. Rose. She’s gone missing?”

“Yes. Where is she?”

“I–“ the girl stopped, seemingly debating with herself.

“Where is she? Who took her? Please. She’s my…” he rubbed his face and exhaled roughly, “I just need to find her.”

She furrowed her brows, a pitying look in her eyes and she sighed heavily. “See, my family is wealthy, and so can afford a…pet, so to speak. They wear collars and are sometimes used for…pleasure purposes. But mostly they’re used as decoration and a sign of wealth. I think it’s absolutely deplorable, but that’s how things are here.”

He felt ill, and the Doctor’s voice shook slightly when he asked what he already knew the answer to, “And that’s why they took Rose?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Tell me where they’ve taken her. I’m getting her back.”

“I don’t think you can…”

“I have to.”

“Fine,” she relented, “at the edge of the city there’s a building, and I imagine she’s in a holding cage, underground. They have to be…domesticated, before they’re sold.”

The Doctor clenched his jaw, barely breathing and saying in a tight voice, “This building. How do I know which one it is.”

“There’s these–“ she cut off and looked back towards the marketplace with wide eyes. She glanced at him, apology written on her face before turning and running back into the crowd.

The Doctor’s respiratory bypass had kicked in. He didn’t watch her go.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Warning for a little violence and sexual assault***
> 
> Beta'd by whatwecanfic on Tumblr. =)

Rose watched as the Doctor talked animatedly with a vendor; the stall was filled with bits and bobs that would be perfect for his enjoyment of tinkering and “jiggery-pokery”. She had a hard time following the conversation, but she couldn’t keep the smile off her face all the same because his excitement was infectious. Still, she knew he would be a while and this wasn’t exactly the best way to spend her time here. So she reached out and stroked his arm tenderly, a fond smile on her face when he looked over at her touch. She inclined her heads towards the other booths, and he looked hesitant before nodding. Always protective, her Doctor. Her fingers lingered for a moment, ghosting over the material of his suit and she felt his eyes on her as she disappeared into the crowd to see what else this marketplace had to offer. 

She maneuvered around everyone carefully, and while the interesting objects held her attention at first, her mind started to wander back to earlier in the day when the Doctor gave her her gift. As she replayed the memory, she had to press her lips together to keep from smiling and giggling. But then that faded, and she felt this anxious curiosity about the gift and what had been going through the Doctor’s mind. Tiring of the crowd, Rose moved off to the side and looked at the gift in question, which she had been cradling protectively against her chest.

The Doctor had told her it was an Amaradenia from the planet Kascien; a naturally bioluminescent flower that was first flash-frozen then encased in a resin-type material to preserve it. The colors on the petals had an ombre effect which reminded her of a sunset, and when she threw herself into his arms, he held her tight and twirled her around.

“It’s much loved, this flower,” he had said, bright smile fading to a more gentle one after they pulled apart, “Especially like this, where it will never die. There’s a whole legend surrounding the Amaradenia.”

His gaze had shifted to the encased flower in her hands as he spoke, and she could tell his eyebrows had drawn together in thought. When he looked up at her, his expression was something she had trouble deciphering. It was almost vulnerable, which caught her off guard, as the Doctor was usually such a bundle of confident, puppy-like energy. She noticed his eyes flicker down to her lips, and her breath hitched. For a moment she felt sure he was going to close the distance between them to kiss her, but then he fidgeted and looked at his feet, blowing out a breath roughly and tugging on his ear a little. He seemed to gather himself and met her eyes again, smiling a bit shyly. Rose wanted to ask the natural follow-up question, but never got the chance as the Doctor took her hand and whisked her off to the next booth. It was filled with the most beautiful blown glass creations she had ever seen, and the question soon slipped from her mind.

She sighed as she pulled herself out of her reverie, staring at her flower; a soft smile lifted the corners of her mouth as she studied how seamlessly the purple, blue, and pink faded into each other.

There were constantly figures passing by in her peripheral vision that she ignored them completely as she heard a vender and a costumer haggle loudly over his merchandise somewhere nearby, their voices suddenly more clear against the countless conversations and voices of others as their bartering got more heated. As a result, she failed to notice a couple of men who had been studying _her_. They began creeping closer, hands opening and closing restlessly, fingers twitching as though they were steeling themselves for the struggle and then the inevitable capture; one pulled out a damp cloth and held it securely in his right hand. Rose’s smile faded when she heard shuffling too close to her, and she turned sharply. She let out a scream as they lunged at her, which was quickly muffled by the cloth as calloused hands grabbed her roughly. Her gift fell to the ground and was stepped on by one of the men as she kicked out, trainers gouging the dirt as she tried to jerk herself free. She shook her head back and forth frantically, trying to throw off the man’s hand, but it took up most of her face and she could no longer help panting into the cloth from the exertion. She vaguely registered a pleasant smell before things started to go dark and she went limp. 

No one had so much looked their way, and as two men picked her up and quickly carried her towards the city, the crowd dispersed to let them through.

*********************

Rose woke slowly; she could feel her blood pounding in her temples, body aching as though she had worked each individual muscle past its limit, and it took a moment for her mind to connect what had happened. She was laying on a hard surface which was poorly cushioned by something with a musty smell; it poked at her through her shirt and scratched at her exposed skin, making her itchy. There was a cold, smooth pressure around her neck, and when she stirred she heard the scrape of metal against concrete. She could hear low voices and laughter, but someone else was crying. Nothing about this was right and her eyes shot open as she scrambled into a sitting position, supporting herself on her hands which were pressing uncomfortably in what she realized was hay.

Pushing herself up more firmly so she didn’t need extra support, she brought her hands to her neck and felt a metal collar. It was heavier on the left side due a chain attached that was secured to the cement wall beside her, and she felt both the ache of the weight and the twinges of pain caused by the edges of the metal digging into her skin.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe with the panic that felt like it was gripping her throat tighter than the collar was. She gasped, forcing herself not to hyperventilate even if she couldn’t stop her entire body from shaking. She stood unsteadily and realized that the length of chain wasn't even enough to let her reach the front of her cell. Cage, she corrected herself. She was in a cage and chained up like a bloody dog. She started pulling on the chain harshly, hoping to dislodge it from the wall, then moved closer and placed a foot flat against the wall for better leverage. She felt the rough metal begin to cut open her palms.

“Ah, you’re awake,” said a pleased, hoarse voice from behind her, followed by a chuckle belonging to someone else. Rose dropped her hold on the chain and turned, glaring at the two men outside the bars.

“Let me out,” she demanded, cringing internally at how her voice wavered.

One of the men, short black hair and heavy-set and with a face that reminded Rose of a scabbed wound, turned to the other, rough voice laced with amusement. He sounded like he inhaled smoke daily. “What’d ya think? Shall we let her out?”

“Oh, I dunno,” his companion answered, voice high pitched which made it sound deceptively kinder. He was a lot thinner but muscular, long platinum blond hair tied back in a ponytail. “Lookit her hair. That colour’s rare, that is. Like sunshine. And she’s _awfully_ pretty.”

“Mmm, yes, you’re right. She’d bring us some pretty pennies after she passes her obedience training.”

“I’m not going to do a damn thing for you,” Rose snarled, using her anger at being discussed in such a way to hide how unnerved she was.

“You’ll be persuaded otherwise; they all are,” said the blond man, smiling. His teeth were dark yellow and a few were missing. His eyes seemed to gleam in anticipation, and Rose felt her stomach clench as she wondered what they were planning to do to her.

With a rattle of keys and the groaning of rusty hinges, they unlocked her cell door and stepped in, not bothering to shut it behind them, Rose instinctively put as much distance between them as she could. But as they started advancing on her, her breath came in quick, shallow gasps she became forcibly aware of just how small this cell was as she pressed herself against the rough, uneven wall.

The blond pulled out a syringe filled with blue liquid and turned to the heavy one. “Should we give this to her now?”

He eyed it for a moment, and then chuckled darkly before replying, “Let’s wait. I want to see how feisty this one is first.”

Another yellow smile in response and he reached out his free hand to cup her cheek. Rose flinched and turned her face away. His hand instead slowly trailed down her jaw, skating over the collar and down to her collarbone. He paused, playing with the hem of her shirt. Rose was trembling, which caused him to smirk.

“Good girl,” he cooed. And while his voice struck her as kinder at first, it now reminded her of the high pitched scrape of moving metal furniture on tile.

At that Rose moved to slap his hand away, but the other man grabbed her arm at the wrist and twisted it, forcing out a whimper as pain shot through her. He then leaned close and licked a line across her jaw; she squeezed her eyes shut and barely fought down a retch as she felt his hot, putrid breath and his saliva drying on her skin. He laughed as he pulled away, finally dropping her arm. 

“Mmm you taste good. I think obedience lessons can wait…I’d much rather take you for a spin first.” His voice was low, and it made her insides feel cold.

The hand on her collarbone started moving again, every inch lower it drifted she felt the panic rising in her like a crescendo. When it cupped her breast through her shirt, she snapped. Her hand lashed out and slapped the blond man, raking her fingernails down his skin; he shouted in surprised and stumbled back, dropping the syringe with a small clatter and the hand that was touching her moved instead to his face to wipe away the blood that had begun dripping from his jaw.

Stars exploded behind her eyes as the back of the second man’s hand collided with her cheek. The force of it jerked her body away, but she was wrenched back by her collar as the chain reached its limit. As soon as she hit the ground she felt a boot collide with her ribcage, and Rose screamed in pain, gasping and coughing as she curled in on herself. She barely heard the growling voice of the one who hit her saying: 

“Get the syringe. Give her the whole thing.”

Rose’s arm was forcibly held straight and she felt a sharp pain in her wrist, followed the burning sensation of something being pushed into her body. It felt like fire was consuming her from the inside out, and her vision became blurry as though she was trying to see through fog. She felt two sets of hands on her, tearing at her shirt and bra and groping her breasts roughly. When she felt hands under her skirt she started writhing in protest with what energy she had left. She could barely make out the rustling of denim through the roaring in her ears and she knew she was crying as she felt her lower body lifted into the air. She braced herself for the inevitable, but then hands were gone and she felt the sharp pain of the unforgiving concrete floor as it broke her fall. 

She heard the gravelly voice ask a question, and dimly she saw a dark shape crumple to the floor moments later; she tried to force her facial muscles to cooperate so she could squint to make something out, but it was useless. She heard her chain rattled next to her ear as his weight hit the ground. A vaguely familiar shout, then the chain rattled again as a second form joined the first.

Her breathing was labored and shallow, and though she could’ve sworn her eyes were open, her vision was like looking through dark film. The cold, damp floor she was on now that the hay had been kicked away was a stark contrast to the fire under her skin, but it was starting to die down and she was so sure her body, though it was heavy and quickly becoming numb, had turned the colors of charred wood before it disintegrates into ash. She wanted to scream, to move, but her body was unresponsive and her mind felt like it was shutting down.

Cool, soft, gentle hands caressed her face, and she heard her name spoken urgently before her eyes rolled back and she blacked out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long! This chapter still carries a sexual assault warning when it overlaps a bit with the events in last chapter. Next chapter the healing begins.
> 
> Beta'd by whatwecanfic on Tumblr, but all mistakes are mine.

The Doctor ignored the angry yells as he started to force his way through the crowd. Before, when he was first looking for Rose, he made an effort to move through the gaps left between bodies. This time, however, with the knowledge of Rose’s potential fate fresh in his mind, unapologetic shoulder clipping had escalated to purposeful shoves to those who blocked his path. Not even the sound of merchandise being knocked over and a table or two tipping as patrons stumbled and fell over gave him pause.

Blood was pounding in his ears and all he was focused on was his _desperate_ need to get to Rose. 

The ire of the crowd soon became tinged with fear as extent of the Doctor’s rage was realized, and people began parting to let him pass. Registering that there was no longer resistance caused by other bodies, he started running. The steady sound of converse hitting dirt was almost soothing, knowing each step was bringing him closer to finding her.

He slowed when he reached the edge of the city. This is where he had a problem – the girl had run off before she had a chance to tell him how to tell the building apart from the others. _“There’s these—“_ she had began. Those two words weren’t much to go on, but they did let him know there _was_ a way to tell them apart, however subtle it ended up being.

Surveying the buildings, he looked for anything out of the ordinary. The only difference he noticed was that a building to the far left was smaller – only having a first floor while the others had a second. He sighed roughly. That can’t be what she meant. It was just different architecture, easily explained away by matters of taste and necessity. But his time sense reminded him it was 10 minutes shy of it being 6 hours since she went missing, so he jogged around the building to get a better look anyway.

The back door was made of thick, worn metal that was peeling along the edges due to rust. Off to the side, and extending along the outside perimeter, were bushes of flowers in various colors, but predominately shades of blue. It was beautiful landscaping, although the aroma, while pleasant, was a little overpowering and he blinked a few times to clear his head. He scanned the area quickly, and what caught his eye was that several of the light blue clusters were half barren – the flowers themselves having been removed. He frowned as he walked over, pulling out his sonic. He scanned over a few, his frown deepening and eyebrows drawing together as he started reading over the preliminary results. Before he could think any more about it though, he heard the door unlatch and what sounded like a body ram against it to shove it open.

He dived into the shadows to get out of sight, and then turned to watch. There were dull thuds and scraping of metal as the door was rammed once, twice more. The sudden release caused flakes of rust to come loose and fall to the ground and he heard the scuffling of shoes the person who opened the door stumbled slightly. 

A young girl was pulled out of the building into the bright sunlight, flanked by two men. One looked like he was in his early 20’s, purposefully disheveled, pretentious and skinny as a rail. It was no wonder he struggled to open the door. The other was dressed in a suit, an older gentleman with black hair slicked back. His expression and posture were haughty as he kept a possessive hold on the girl’s arm. She was small, and can’t have been more than 20. She was wearing a yellow sundress that went just below her knees and her long brown hair hid her face as she stared at her feet. He could hear her sniffling, shoulders hunched in despair, but she remained docile. The Doctor then noticed the collar as it glinted in the sunlight; it was gold and looked brand new, and his jaw clenched. Oh yes, this was the place.

Once they disappeared around the corner of the building, he ran over to the door and soniced the lock, pulling it sharply a couple times to pry it open. It slammed shut behind him and he took a moment to get his bearings.  
The strong smell of mold hit him, and he wrinkled his nose in disgust. It was dark, and damp, and as he took a couple steps forward he was startled as a scream echo off the walls. He recognized it as Rose immediately – and she was in pain. Eyes searched the entryway in a panic and found a stairwell up the hall on the right. He sprinted, skipping steps on the way down and the Doctor found himself at the beginning of a long corridor lined with cages. He heard her desperate sobs echo off the rough walls, and began running; noticing one of the doors was left open, he skidded to a halt in front of that cage and looked in. 

There was Rose. Her clothes were torn and her body exposed, the chain attached to her neck swayed and rattled as her body was maneuvered and restrained by two men. A blonde man, ponytail coming undone and bloodied scratches on his cheek, held her forcefully under her arms, hands tugging roughly at her breasts. The other man’s bulky body was positioned between Rose’s legs, one hand gripped tightly around her thigh to hold her up as his other fumbled with the front of his trousers, freeing his erection.

The Doctor growled. The sound welled up from the darkest part of him—beyond the Oncoming Storm but instead the Killer of His Own Kind—and at that moment he knew he was still capable of murder. Both men turned at the sound, dropping Rose in the process. 

“How the hell did you get in here?” The man had a face that was scarred to the point where it looked scabbed over, his voice gravely and seemingly unconcerned about what he was caught doing and that his cock was still hanging out of his trousers.

The Doctor said nothing. His jaw was tight, eyes black, hands clenched into fists at his sides. Making his decision, he took two quick strides closer and with a touch to the man’s temple, watched indifferently as he collapsed. The other man shouted in fury, and made to attack him but with another touch, he too fell to the floor. They would wake up eventually, and his lip curled in a snarl at the thought. He then looked to Rose, and when he saw her he felt all the rage drain from him as he knelt at her side. Trembling hands gently cradled her face and turned it towards him. 

“Rose!”

He watched as her eyes closed and pressed his lips firmly together to hold back a sob. 

He immediately took out his sonic and removed the collar, eyebrows drawing together as his fingers ghosted over the gash that was left behind. Breathing heavily through his nose to gain control over his emotions, he looked over her body. Her shirt and bra were ripped open, it looked as though she had a broken rib and there were fingertip-shaped bruises forming on her breasts, arms, and thighs. Her skin was clammy and her breathing labored despite her unconsciousness. Quickly shrugging off his jacket, he gently maneuvered her into it, minding the broken rib, and buttoned it up. He noticed a trickle of blood on her wrist, from where she was injected with something. He quickly looked around, and saw the syringe lying empty at her side. Frowning, he searched through the men’s clothes and came across a filled one, and pocketed it to examine once he got Rose back to the TARDIS. 

Cradling Rose in his arms, he carefully stood and quickly made his way out of the cell, up the stairs, out the building, and back towards the marketplace - not sparing no much as a backward glance.

He was aware of the possibility that he would have men after him, so he kept his pace brisk all the way back to the TARDIS. Stopping by the consol to send his ship into the vortex, he started to walk down the main corridor and smiled weakly when he immediately found himself at the infirmary. 

“Thanks, Old Girl,” he murmured as he entered, vaguely noting Her sad hum in response.

He set Rose gingerly on a gurney, and pulled out his stethoscope. Her breathing was still labored, but her heart drew his concern immediately. It was racing, but occasionally he heard the beating stutter as though it was about to give out. He pulled away and ran his hands through his hair, a bit frantic. 

He dug the syringe out of his pocket and jumped over to his desk. Placing the liquid in a machine, he watched as it examined its properties which would allow him to make an antidote. His eyebrows drew together at the results; some of them looked vaguely familiar, as though he’d already read them. He scratched at his right sideburn as his mind did a quick run through of the past seven hours. 

When he remembered patches of missing flowers, he raced back to Rose, removed his sonic from his jacket she was still wearing, and finished looking over the results of the scan he did earlier. He shifted and began typing the properties into his computer, eyes flitting back and forth as he read the words on the monitor. 

The flowers themselves had properties that he figured the locals would use in small doses as a sleep aid, but in larger doses it acted more like chloroform. So _that’s_ how they subdued her so quickly. He looked back at the chemical makeup of the blue liquid, and saw there were several additives beyond what was found in the flowers which changed the results. In this case, once injected it wouldn’t put someone to sleep, but would make them docile and pliant. Although, Rose wasn’t the same species, so she was having an extreme adverse reaction to it.

Moving quickly, he mixed up an antidote and injected it into Rose’s bloodstream. He waited, and after a few minutes placed the stethoscope against her chest, listening to her head beat regulate back to normal as her breathing evened out.

The Doctor’s cheeks puffed out as he blew out a breath, and then rubbed his hands over his face. Placing the stethoscope down on a counter, he picked up a little machine that would heal her broke rib. Unbuttoning his jacket, he placed it over the rib in question and pressed a button. Rose’s breath hitched in response. Moving it away, the Doctor set the machine back in its place and gently placed his fingers against her rib to make sure everything was back to normal; it was. A couple more gadgets and careful maneuvering of Rose’s body found her bruises gone and the cuts from the collar healed. Her body would be sore for a few days, but there would be no lasting damage. Well…physically, at least. 

He sat down heavily in a chair next to her and closed his eyes as he held his head in his hands. He was sure she would need plenty of time to heal emotionally, but the possibility of her being anxious and scared around _him_ made tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. He would understand, of course he would, but all he wanted to do for the foreseeable future was hold her and he hoped that she would let him.

He reached into his pocket and felt his hand grasp Rose’s gift, and he pulled it out to look at it. Cradling it gently, he ran his fingers over it, musing about the legend and how he almost, _almost_ gave in and kissed her. Such a coward, he was. He sighed and placed the flower back in his pocket. All he could do now was wait for her to wake up.

********************

Hours later, Rose again woke slowly. A feeling of déjà-vu hit her and she shot up in a panic, wincing and crying out when it the soreness in her head and body hit her upon moving.

The Doctor was at her side instantly, cradling her face in his hands and trying to get her to focus on him.

“Hey hey hey, Rose it’s okay. You’re safe now, in the TARDIS, “ he whispered urgently, swiping his thumbs over her cheeks to wipe away her tears.

“Doctor, oh Doctor,” Rose sobbed, looking into his eyes for a moment before burying her face in his chest and feeling him wrap his arms around her, holding her tightly. She was surrounded by his scent, realizing that she was also wearing his jacket and she breathed in deeply to ground herself.

“I’m here, I’m here,” he was murmuring into her hair, “We’ll make it through this. I promise.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, so sorry for the delay. I know I said the healing would begin this chapter, but I don't want to risk glossing over what Rose has been through and I want to be more authentic in regards to her healing.
> 
> That being said, hope you like!
> 
> Beta'd by whatwecanfic, but all mistakes are mine.

Immediately after she got her bearings and stopped crying, Rose extracted herself from the Doctor’s arms and carefully got off the gurney, wincing as she stood unsteadily. She kept her head down, staring at the floor, but she could see his arms outstretched, hands close but not touching her, just in case she needed him. The Doctor watched her warily, brows furrowed at how abruptly she had closed herself off. He wanted to pull her back into his arms, hopefully provide some comfort and support, but he watched as she wrapped her arms around herself instead, sniffling.

“Rose?” asked the Doctor gently.

Her arms tightened around her middle, and she released a shuddering breath before mumbling she was going to take a shower and hastily leaving the room. The Doctor ran a hand through his hair, exhaling roughly as his other hand balled into a fist at his side. He wanted to go straight back to that planet. But he swallowed his fury enough to make his way to Rose’s room instead of the consol—Rose would always be his priority.

The Doctor lingered outside her bedroom door a few minutes later. Normally he would have left her to it, gone to tinker in the consol room until she was done. She always came to sit on the jump seat afterwards, swinging her legs back and forth as she waited for him to hop out from under the grating to join her. Now, he was reluctant to leave her alone. He paced the corridor a few times before sighing heavily and leaning against the wall, back sliding against it as he slumped to the floor.

Given what was about to happen when he found Rose, he wouldn’t push her to tell him unless she wanted to– he could surmise that himself, and it filled him with a sinister rage that gnawed at him ceaselessly. He didn’t try to ignore it; in fact he welcomed it. He didn’t want to focus on what was simmering underneath—helplessness. He didn’t know just how deep her emotional wounds were, but he knew they weren’t something he could fix with anything in the infirmary or any setting on his sonic. But maybe his love—and blimey, did he love her—could be a balm for those wounds, and he could be a safe harbor for her to rest in as she healed.

For the second time in 14 hours, the Doctor heard Rose scream.

It jarred him from his thoughts, and he scrambled to his feet and ran into her room, swallowing hard at how anguished she sounded. He pushed open her en suite door and was immediately struck with how _hot_ it was in there. The heat and the steam it produced were oppressive. He shook his head in an attempt to clear that feeling, and in a few steps he was at the shower door, sliding it open.

Rose was curled up on the floor; breath coming in short gasps, her skin red from the scalding water and from scrubbing—there was a washcloth clutched tightly in her hand. The Doctor shut off the water and grabbed a large pink towel before kneeling down beside her.

“Rose, Rose, it’s okay, it’s okay, come here,” he said gently, wrapping her in the towel and scooping her up in his arms. She went willingly, dropping the cloth as her chest heaved in the struggle to breathe normally, and he stood and quickly left the bathroom. The cool air was a welcomed relief, and the Doctor sat down on her bed, rocking them both back and forth. He held her to his chest, stroking her wet hair as she fisted her hands in his shirt and clung to him with a desperation that made him press his lips together to fight back his own tears.

“I—I could still—feel—their hands—on me—“ she sobbed. The Doctor held her tighter, squeezing his eyes shut against the anger and pain swirling inside that he could feel like a crescendo. 

“They can’t touch you anymore and I will make sure no one else _ever_ hurts you like that again.” His voice was low and tight, threatening, but softened before continuing. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

It took several more minutes (if he didn’t have a time sense he would’ve sworn it was much longer) filled with soothing words and sounds, but Rose’s sobs faded, breathing calmed, and she sagged against him, exhausted. The Doctor held her quietly for a while longer, but when he remembered that she was only haphazardly wrapped in a towel, his hearts stuttered and he gently nudged her head with his nose.

“Hey,” he whispered, “how ‘bout we get you into some jim jams so you can get some rest. I’ll even braid your hair so you don’t have to worry about it for a while.” 

“I don’t want to sleep yet,” she mumbled.

“Then how about I read to you for a while first?” 

Rose finally looked up at him, eyes red and puffy, and he smiled gently. The corners of her mouth twitched in response.

“I’d like that.”

She clutched the towel around herself and climbed off his lap, the Doctor immediately averting his eyes and tugging on his ear before he stood and turned his back to her. He heard the towel drop and when his breath hitched slightly he mentally scolded himself. Rose was hurting, and despite his feelings and attraction towards her and the fact that she was naked a few feet from him, now was most definitely **not** the time and he couldn’t allow himself to even _think_ about her like that. Instead, he started naming every star in a distant galaxy until he felt her hand on his arm and spun around.

She withdrew her hand and started picking at her nails, but before she looked away from him the Doctor noted that her expression was guarded. His eyebrows knitted together in concern, all untoward thoughts completely banished. He didn’t say anything, and took a moment to look her over. She was wearing long pj bottoms, and an old baggy t-shirt that was darkening from the water dripping off her hair. The skin he could see was still tinged pink, but that was much improved from before. 

“Let’s get your hair taken care of, shall we?” he asked gently as he moved to pick up the discarded towel. 

Rose’s hands stilled and she took a deep breath before nodding, moving to sit on the chair that was really only there for this reason. The Doctor disappeared into the bathroom for a minute to grab two tiny elastics and a comb, holding them out for Rose to hold when he returned. She had been biting her thumbnail, but stopped and took them without a word. He dried her hair a bit more, then took the proffered comb and began gently working through the knots. The Doctor stayed quiet, and Rose let herself get lost in the feeling of his fingers in her hair. It was soothing. _He_ was soothing. 

He obviously wanted to protect her, he had protected her…he got to her before they—no. Don’t think about that. She began to wonder what happened after that, but quickly shut down that thought too. He had taken care of her, and that’s all she needed—wanted—to know. And she knew, she _knew_ he would never hurt her. She loved him so much, and while things between them were so undefined, the several near-kisses they’ve had lately told her he felt _something_ towards her. But she was flickering between wanting to be in his arms and not wanting to be touched, and she worried that her indecisiveness, regardless of the reason why, would come between them. She hoped it wouldn’t. She knew she needed to explain what was going on in her head, but right now the thought of rehashing anything to do with what happened made her feel ill.

She felt something brush against her hand and recoiled, jerking out of her thoughts.

“Oh Rose, I’m sorry,” came the Doctor’s voice, soft and remorseful. “I didn’t mean to startle you like that. I was just grabbing the elastics. I’m just about done.” 

Rose handed them to him and took several deep breaths to calm her racing heart.

“There,” he said, stepping back to admire his work. Rose brought her hands up to skim along the twin French braids, and then turned to look up at him. She offered him a small smile, and he grinned at her, which automatically made her smile more. “Are you hungry at all? How about a cuppa and some toast before I begin reading?”

Rose shook her head quickly; she didn’t feel up to putting anything in her stomach right now. The Doctor frowned, but didn’t push her.

“Okay. C’mon then, let’s get settled in your bed.”

He picked up his suit jacket from where she had tossed it on the bed before her shower and reached into a pocket, pulling out a thick but colorful book as well as his specs. She had never seen that book before, and her curiosity was piqued as she crawled under the duvet he had pulled back for her before scooting over to make room for him. Pausing to take off his trainers and remove his oxford, he got in next to her and settled himself against the headboard. He looked down at her, and Rose hesitated a moment before snuggling up against him, head on his chest. She heard him exhale in relief, and she squeezed his middle.

“What are you going to read to me?” she whispered.

“Children’s stories.”

“What? Really?”

“Oh yes! Marvelous things, children’s stories. We’ll stick to my favorite happy ones tonight, hmm?”

Rose nodded, pressing her lips together to keep from smiling.

The Doctor began to read, changing his voice for different characters and Rose felt the heaviness that was threatening to suffocate her lift as she began giggling and smiling. He was so good at this and him reading to her was something she never wanted him to stop doing no matter how long they traveled together. After a while, she felt sleep begin to pull her under and she wiggled closer to him, feeling his arm tighten around her—safe and secure. She felt his lips press against her forehead briefly, and then she was out.

**********

In hindsight, the Doctor realized he should’ve seen this coming.

After watching Rose sleep for an hour, with the assurance that she was _here_ and _safe_ , he had allowed himself to drift off as well. It had, after all, been a very trying day.

He was awoken a couple hours later by an ear-splitting scream and flailing limbs colliding with his body. Rose had extracted herself from his side at some point, and was thrashing in her sleep; struggling against whatever she was dreaming about. She wasn’t screaming anymore, but she was sobbing, and the image was all too familiar. The Doctor grunted as she kicked him again, and quickly tried to keep her still lest she hurt herself.

“Rose! Rose!” he said urgently, and her whole body jerked as she drew in a ragged gasp, eyes wide and panicked. He cradled her face in his hands, aware she wasn’t quite with him yet. 

“Rose, look at me. It’s okay. I’m here, you’re okay. No one’s gonna hurt you. I’ve got you. I lo—I’ve got you and I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Her eyes seem to clear, flitting back and forth between his, and her bottom lip trembled. The Doctor pushed away the hair that had come loose and was now sweaty and stuck to her face, and pulled her close. He got the feeling he was literally holding her together, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the tears he could feel coming.

“Sssshhh, you’re okay. I’ve got you. I’m here,” he whispered until she stopped trembling and took a few deep, steadying breaths.

“M’sorry,” she mumbled, shifting out of his arms to lie back down, facing away from him.

“Hey, no, it’s fine.” He reached out and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, thumb moving back and forth in what he hoped was a comforting way. When she didn’t respond, he withdrew and pulled the duvet back over her, shifting back against the headboard again.

He didn’t go back to sleep. He could tell Rose didn’t either, but she didn’t move and didn’t make another sound.

The Doctor felt helpless; Rose felt numb.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will hurt a bit. But it's going to slowly start getting better from here.
> 
> Beta'd by dirty-brian.

They remained in the vortex, and Rose refused to sleep the few days following. The Doctor didn’t sleep either, but he was a Time Lord—he didn’t need much sleep to begin with. But humans need their sleep, and the Doctor was becoming increasingly more anxious as he watched Rose go without. 

The morning after her nightmare, Rose spent the day wandering around the gardens and trying on different outfits and costumes in the wardrobe. It kept her distracted, and when it became her usual bedtime, she watched the Doctor tinker in silence instead. He kept glancing at her, eyebrows drawn together in concern, but obviously didn’t know how to breach the subject. After a while she couldn’t risk sitting still anymore, and got off the jump seat to leave. The Doctor paused and Rose was sure he wanted to come with, but she resolutely did not look at him and she could feel him watching her as she walked away. 

Her body was still sore, so she took a very long hot shower. And while she didn’t feel the ghost of their hands on her anymore, she still felt as though she wasn’t clean enough. She wasn’t sure how long she had been in there when the hot water suddenly flashed to cold then back to the previous temperature. It jarred her, and she looked to realize that her skin was becoming a little raw from the absentminded yet persistent scrubbing. Forcing herself to get out, she decided to forgo taking another shower for a while. After putting her wet hair in pigtail braids and pulling on some long pyjama bottoms and a soft jumper, Rose left her room and began to wander the endless corridors of the TARDIS. Then she kept wandering—she had to keep moving to stay awake.

After the first night she had begun avoiding the Doctor altogether, and the only feeling that permeated through her shield of numbness was the guilt gnawing at her; she didn’t say _anything_ to him beforehand, and he must hate her for so suddenly and forcibly distancing herself from him like this. The fact that he hadn’t found her told her he was probably already aware of her feelings about seeing him—she’s sure the TARDIS told him.

That nightmare was the worst she’s ever had. What those men did...she relived it but it was worse—the Doctor didn’t make it to her in time. And when the Doctor woke her, her body ached in certain places and it felt all too real. It shook her to her core, and experiencing that again was the last thing she wanted right now. She knew sleeping was inevitable; she just wanted to put it off as long as possible. But the nightmare triggered all the memories she had worked so hard to suppress, and she found herself a prisoner to them…until something in her seemed to break the morning of the second day. Nothing in her head made sense anymore; her mind was filled with static and nothingness at the same time, and she both welcomed it and was scared of the drastic change. Her eyes never closed for long; what she saw behind them made her stomach churn. She was sporadically still able to register the TARDIS’ worried hum, albeit vaguely, and despite her (weakening) protests about the Doctor seeing her like this, she knew it was only a matter of time before the ship intervened.

Things began to blur together, and she would never truly know everywhere she’d been over the past few days. She sometimes tried to solely focus on her heartbeat in an attempt to anchor herself, to find her way back, but even that seemed to echo in the hollowness of her body. Her head ached, and Rose began to feel like a careless tourist; lost in the abandoned ruins of a mind that couldn’t possibly be her own.

**********

The Doctor didn’t want to push her. He didn’t want to force her to do anything. But as he watched her walk out of the console room, refusing to look at him, he almost went after her anyway. He swallowed hard and he didn’t need the knot in his stomach to tell him that this…wasn’t a good sign. 

He ended up going to her room a few hours later and couldn’t help his disappointment when there wasn’t a sleeping Rose in the bed. Or a Rose in the room at all. Honestly, he wasn’t all that surprised—he knew when she avoided his gaze that she wasn’t going to sleep. He’d been traveling with Rose long enough and been locked up enough to know she can go a night without sleep out of necessity, but that’s always aided by adrenaline and once they’re safe in the TARDIS she sleeps most of the next day away. He just didn’t count on her avoiding her room entirely. The TARDIS then informed him she was currently near the gardens. Sighing, he ran a hand wearily through his hair and started towards the library, deciding to give her tonight. He asked his ship to keep an eye on her, but surely she’ll come back to her room and be willing to try sleeping again tomorrow, if for no other reason besides she’s just so tired.

Only…she didn’t. 

The Doctor was just about to set off to look for her when his ship told him Rose didn’t want to see him. His hearts sank and he slumped against the wall and down to the floor, head falling back with a dull ‘thud’. This was what he was afraid of. He stayed in that position for an hour before forcing himself to get up and slowly trudge to his room to take a shower. He opted to change into a pair of dark blue pinstriped pyjama bottoms and a gray Henley, and spent the rest of the night in his room half-heartedly tinkering with whatever parts he had laying around.

The next day he was listless, and by evening he found himself in front of Rose’s room again; door still ajar, room still empty. He went inside and sat down a moment before giving up all pretenses and flinging his legs over so he lay down. He _missed_ Rose. And he was so worried about her he felt like it was eating away at his bones. The TARDIS wasn’t fairing much better, and while he knew his ship wasn’t telling him everything that was going on, her presence in his mind was becoming progressively more anxious and that told him enough.

He groaned and rolled onto his side, pressing his face into the pillow. Although now he was suddenly overwhelmed with her scent and his hearts clenched painfully. She was somewhere in the bowels of his ship _hurting_ , and here he was, last of the Time Lords, one of the most powerful beings in the Universe, but at that moment, unable to help the woman he loved more than anything, he felt completely powerless. The Doctor squeezed his eyes shut in attempt to keep the tears at bay, but he felt them start to fall down his cheeks anyway. Releasing a ragged breath that turned into sob, he curled up and buried his face deeper into her pillow to muffle the sobs that followed.

**********

The TARDIS sent the Doctor an intense wave of dread the morning of the fourth day, and even if Rose still didn’t want to see him, he still rushed off to find her. Enough was enough. She was standing by the brook in one of the gardens, watching the water as her body swayed in attempt to remain upright, and looked up when she heard him approaching. Her wide eyes looked hollow and haunted, and the dark circles were made more pronounced by how pale she had become. The Doctor suddenly felt like his insides were ice and he reached out for her.

“Oh, _Rose_ …”

Rose’s expression crumbled and she took two unsteady steps into the Doctor’s arms before her knees buckled. His arms tightened around her to keep her from hitting the ground, then readjusted so that one arm was hooked under her knees and the other behind her shoulders. Cradled against his chest, the Doctor could feel Rose trembling. As he carried her out, he glanced down and found her already staring. She was looking at him with unabashed wonder and adoration, as though she couldn’t believe he was real, and his breath hitched when she reached up and cupped his cheek gently. He leaned into the touch, quickly registering how cold her hand was, before looking away and shouldering open the first door the TARDIS showed him, which he already knew would be Rose’s room.

Her bed was still unmade—the Doctor never bothering to make it while he was in there—and he gently placed her on the mattress before reaching out for the duvet. Rose’s voice, weak and scratchy, made him pause to look at her.

“Doctor, I don’t—“ 

“Sshh, Rose,” he interrupted softly, pulling the duvet back up over her and then caressing her face with his hand. She was freezing. “You need to sleep. Please?”

Rose chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. 

“…Will you stay?” 

The Doctor felt his hearts break a little at the uncertainty in her voice.

“’Course I will, Rose.”

He wasn’t wearing his chucks, and was still only dressed in a Henley and pj bottoms, so once she scooted over he got into bed. They both shifted onto their sides, facing each other, and the Doctor reached out and pulled Rose against him. She buried her face in his chest as he held her tightly. Rose breathed in deeply, his scent and the feeling of his arms around her grounding her and filling every inch of her with what felt like a comforting balm after the past few days.

“Rose,” the Doctor murmured after several minutes, “will you stay with me too?”

Rose let out a choked whimper and nodded, wiggling closer to him and tangling her legs with his. After avoiding him for so long, she had forgotten how safe she felt with him, and decided that she was going to stop pushing him away. She wasn’t ready to talk just yet, but she was going to let him hold her and stay with her and help her begin to piece herself back together.

The Doctor didn’t shy away from their rather intimate position, and when she heard his soft noise of contentment, she couldn’t help the smile that broke free and soon fell asleep listening to the lullaby of his heartbeats.

**********

Rose had another nightmare. She didn’t scream, she didn’t thrash, but when she woke suddenly she was disoriented as her mind struggled to pull itself back to reality. Her surroundings came into focus slowly, and she became aware of the Doctor’s presence; it was warmth that permeated through the lingering fear, soothing it away.

Rose saw the Doctor was still sleeping; hair a right mess and lips pouting slightly, arm still holding her waist protectively. Her heart felt full at the sight, and she was alarmed at the sudden moisture in her eyes. Unable to help herself, she leaned up and pressed a ghost of a kiss to his jaw. He grunted in response, burrowing his face into the pillow, still very much clinging to sleep. Rose pressed her lips together in a vain attempt to keep from smiling, and she shifted a bit to get more comfortable. This dislodged the Doctor’s arm for a moment, and then came his voice, low and rough. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Just…just a nightmare.”

He moved so he was on his back and pulled her close. His arm was wrapped around her securely, but his hand on her hip was gentle. Rose melted into the embrace and laid her head between his shoulder and collarbone, hand over his left heart.

“You’re safe. I’ve got you,” he murmured after lacing his fingers with hers on his chest and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

He had already fallen back to sleep when Rose whispered, “I know.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the ridiculous wait.
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely perfectlyrose.

As the Doctor began to wake, he became immediately aware that during the couple hours since he changed their position, Rose had wrapped herself around him like a vine. The weight of her body was the first thing he registered, followed by the steady, warm puffs of air he felt against his neck as she slept. Repressing a shiver, he kept his eyes closed, fearing this was just a hyper-realistic dream. But as he breathed in her overwhelmingly comforting scent, he knew it wasn’t, and allowed himself to open them. 

He couldn’t see her face with it being tucked into the crook of his neck, but Rose was lying _on_ him, legs tangled around one of his, an arm wrapped around his torso. He preened a little at being such a good pillow. His arm was still wrapped around her, holding her to him, and he wondered if he had helped her into this position. He couldn’t help squeezing her a little closer, nuzzling his cheek to her forehead as he fought to keep from grinning like a love-sick fool. Which, admittedly, he was. But when he felt hot, soft skin beneath his hand instead of cotton, his breath hitched and he froze. Her jumper had bunched up past her waist. His immediate instinct was to pull it back down, but before his muscles so much as tensed to begin moving, he realized that such a movement would certainly wake her. She had been awake for days, and he didn’t want to disturb her just because he suddenly felt like her heat was scalding him. 

Forcing himself to relax back into the embrace, he moved his other hand into his hair and closed his eyes, berating himself. How was he much better than those men who violated her if he couldn’t get a damn grip on himself? True, he would _never_ force himself on her, but it was _his_ fault this happened to her. Exhaling roughly through his nose, he clenched his jaw for a moment, digging unhappy dimples in his cheeks as he came to a decision. Rose was traumatized, and rightly so. What she had been and was going through still made his blood boil, stoking the darker and more dangerous parts of him. But more importantly, Rose needed time and his _support_ , not his more-than-best-mates feelings and attraction towards her.

He’d have to find a balance, a way put enough distance between them to keep himself in check yet not let on to anything being wrong. Or maybe he had better let her take the lead with any affection between them. It came easy for him, especially in this body where her touch was like nourishment, but he feared the possibility of making her uncomfortable and he couldn’t bear that. She had avoided him for the past four days, after all. True, she had asked him to stay and they had cuddled all night, but she hadn’t slept in four days and was most likely a bit delirious. He’d have to see how she was when she woke and go from there. For now, he would cherish this quiet, intimate moment with her while she slept.

\---

The Doctor dozed off and on for several more hours before Rose began to stir. She pressed her face closer while she groaned a little and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment when he felt her lips pressed against his collarbone. She pulled away and looked at him blearily, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly in a soft, sleepy smile.

“Hello,” she said quietly, voice a bit scratchy.

“Hello.” His voice was also rough from sleep and the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. “Did you sleep well?”

“I’m still tired.”

“You can sleep longer, you know.”

“No, I…not right now.”

“Fair enough. I can make some breakfast.” He saw Rose about to refuse and frowned. “You haven’t eaten in days, Rose. You need _something_. Tell you what – you can pick. Anything you want.”

Rose was quiet for a moment, then tentatively asked, “Chocolate chip pancakes?”

The Doctor chuckled fondly. “That sounds brilliant.”

Rose detangled herself from him, and the Doctor held his breath, wondering if she would comment on their position. But she said nothing, just fixed her shirt and gave him another small, weak smile before disappearing into the ensuite. He frowned, eyebrows furrowed. Yes, he was right – she needed his support, nothing more. Her grief was tangible; he could taste it in the air, see how she struggled as though it were a cloak too large and heavy for her small frame. She couldn’t even find the strength to smile, weighed down as she was. Her smile was always so readily given to him, often with a teasing bit of tongue poking through, and being without it for so long had made him realized how strongly he yearned for it, for her happiness. Vengeful thoughts crept in again, but he shook his head to clear them. _Now’s not the time_ , he told himself sternly. Climbing out of her bed, he scrubbed his face with his hands in an attempt to rouse himself more and went to start on the pancakes.

\---

Rose stared at herself in the mirror, expression blank. Her eyes were rimmed with red, dark circles in stark contrast to her pale face. She felt heavy, muscles and bones struggling under the weight of everything she’d been through. She sighed as she heard the Doctor leave her room, and even just by his footsteps she could tell he was weighed down too. She knew he was blaming himself, and wondered how that would affect their relationship…or rather, their friendship, from here on out. Would he pull away? What if…what if he didn’t want her anymore, after what was done to her? Rose swallowed the lump in her throat and went to take a quick shower, wishing she could wash away more than just surface grime. 

\---

Rose entered the galley just as the Doctor flipped the last pancake onto a large plate. Her stomach growled loudly at the sight and smell. He smiled gently, and motioned for her to take a seat. She noticed he had changed back into his suit and his hair was artfully unkempt instead of his (adorable) bed head. He loaded a few pancakes onto both their plates, and set out her favorite syrup – pure maple with a hint of strawberry. They ate in silence, Rose marshaling her wayward thoughts and trying to focus exclusively on feeding herself. The Doctor didn’t try to fill the silence with his gob; for as many thoughts as he cycled through every second, all the languages he knew, in the face of Rose’s pain…he was at a loss for words. There were words he _should_ say, that maybe she needed to hear, even if the English equivalent didn’t even come close to encompassing the depth of those feelings, but they always got caught in his throat. Besides, she knows, he told himself. Of course she knows.

The Doctor cleared his plate, and watched Rose pick at her last pancake for a moment before giving up the pretense of finishing it and pushed her plate away from her. Well, she had eaten two, and that was a good start. He cleaned up while Rose watched his movements, and once he was done he turned to her and waited until she met his eyes.

“I need to work on the TARDIS for a while, would you like to keep me company?”

Rose nodded, and the Doctor held out his hand. She took it, and let him lead her to her place at the jump seat, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze before releasing it and hopping down beneath the grating. Rose sat down and listened to the TARDIS humming, the whirr of the sonic, and staring at the occasional glimpse of the mess that was the Doctor’s hair as he shifted around. There was something soothing about it, and as a result her mind was mercifully quiet.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before the Doctor reappeared, frowning. He rubbed the back of his neck before sighing roughly.

“Rose, I…need to make a stop somewhere and pick up a part I need.” Rose felt her eyes widen and she suddenly felt ill at the prospect of leaving the TARDIS. The Doctor noticed, and hastily continued, “I’m not asking you to come with me. There’s no need, really. I’ll be there and back as quickly as I can.” Rose nodded shakily, and the Doctor reached for her hand, squeezed it, then released it again to enter coordinates and pilot his ship.

The landing was smoother than normal, and Rose had a feeling that both the ship and her pilot had been extra careful. As good natured as she was about often ending up sprawled out on top of the grating next to the Doctor, usually laughing, she was grateful she was still seated on the jump seat. The Doctor turned to her, cupped her face in his palms, and looked down at her with intense eyes. Rose was overwhelmed with all the emotions swirling instead her, and pressed her lips tightly together when her eyes got watery. His gaze softened instantly as he gently brushed his thumbs under her eyes.

“I will be right back. No one gets through those doors without my permission, okay? You’ll be safe.” The Doctor pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, then pulled away and walked to the doors. Rose met his eyes when he looked back, and didn’t look away even after he disappeared. She could still feel the coolness of his lips against her skin.

\--- 

Outside the TARDIS, the Doctor looked around at the throngs of people, hands in tight fists at his side. He breathed deeply through his nose in an attempt to keep his emotions in check. Just being back on this planet made his skin crawl with the desperate energy of a vigilante in the face of injustice, but he told himself firmly he was only here to get that part he needed. Shoving his hands into his trouser pockets, he stepped onto the street and negotiated his way through the crowd until he found the booth he needed.

“Ah, there you are sir!” greeted the vender, “I was hoping you’d be back!” He flashed a grin before bending to retrieve a bag. “I put this aside after you left so abruptly, just in case.”

They chatted for a bit, the Doctor not as animated as before. He inspected the part to make sure everything was as it should be, and then dug into his pocket for the right currency.  
  
“Where's the pretty lady today?” the merchant asked suddenly.  
  
The Doctor bit back a growl at his tone –even if his face was casual, he could _hear_ the leer— and stiffly replied, “At home, resting; she's a bit under the weather.”  
  
“A pity. Give her my best.”  
  
The Doctor clenched his jaw, nodding curtly before paying and leaving the booth with his purchase. Yes, Rose was beautiful, but she was so much more than that. And these…these men on this planet seemed to only see her as a slab of meat.  
  
That realization was all it took for him to change direction, heading to the outskirts of the city. His strides were quick, the likelihood that he would clip shoulders with some life-form deemed insignificant as he calculated what he could do. He couldn’t start an uprising; granted, to forcibly tear down the establishment behind this…piss poor excuse for a ”business” would be the most the most permanent change, but it would be too messy and would take too long. Plus he would never force Rose to have anything to do with this planet again; it was bad enough he was here right now, even unbeknownst to her. 

Finally reaching the building where the “domestication” took place, the Doctor’s eyes roved over the structure, narrowing as he studied it. Maybe…maybe he wouldn’t be able to free those already in captivity and definitively put an end to the practice, but he could free the ones in Rose’s position and delay future ones. Digging into his pockets to check to make sure he had what he needed, the Doctor jogged around to the back of the building, stopping in front of the door just as he pulled a bottle out with a grin. 

IC-751, known as one of the best and most potent fire starters ever made—but in his (not so humble) opinion, it was _the_ best, as he had personally tested the others and wouldn’t use them again. It was a similar consistency to 20th century Earth’s gasoline, but odorless and there was no way to trace it as the source of the fire. As a result, it was considered dangerous and not something you could get just anywhere. Arson was certainly not the _intended_ usage, but as the Doctor soniced then yanked open the door to step inside, he couldn’t say that in this case it would be considered wrong.

The smell of mold hit him strongly, just like last time. But despite how it made him recoil slightly, he had to take a few deep breaths through his nose in an attempt to keep the flashbacks of what exactly “last time” entailed at bay. It was as damp and dark as he remembered, but the dampness wouldn’t matter. He walked carefully, silently, to the other side of the building, and strategically placed drops of IC-751 until he was back at the entrance. There were no torches in this area – they were all in the basement, so the drops would only be ignited once the fire creeped through the cracks in the floor. He put the bottle back into his pocket for now, not knowing what, or rather who, he would find in the basement. After he reached the bottom of the stairs, his hands clenched into fists at his side, both at the flood of memories and at the sound of someone crying quietly a few cages down.

What he hadn’t noticed before was an office tucked at the very back of the basement past the row of the cages, and predictably, there were two men talking and laughing inside. Different men than last time, of course, the Doctor had made sure of that. He had left them alive, but their mental state was deteriorated. There were a lot of things he regretted in his very long life, but their fate was not one of them. He would give these men one chance to leave, or they would go the same way. They were lucky they got a choice at all. The Doctor’s jaw was aching with how long it’d been clenched.

“OI! Whatta ya doin’ in ‘ere?!”

A bullnecked, short lump of a man came barreling out of the office and towards him, and his appearance reminded the Doctor a little of a Sontaran, just more rounded out rather than compact. He was quickly joined by a tall, lanky fellow. The Doctor almost chuckled derisively at how comical they looked next to each other, but held himself in check. They had come to a stop at the halfway point, clearly waiting for his response. Well, they say honesty is the best policy…

“Hello!” the Doctor chirped, wiggling his fingers in greeting, “I’m just here to free the young lady I hear crying and burn this building down to blackened rubbish and I wanted to give you the chance to escape under your own free will.” He shrugged, trying to remain casual but also indicate that he really couldn’t be bothered if they didn’t take his offer. 

The gangly bloke let out a bark of scathing laughter, and the Doctor got the distinct impression that he thought himself invincible in this environment. High on the illusion of power degrading and forcing young women into bondage every day must come with. He looked down at his partner and they exchanged a giddy smile, clearly thinking they could make quick work of this intruder. They started towards him again, and the Doctor narrowed his eyes, any air of civility he was trying to give off vanishing in an instant and replaced with hardened steel. He became aware that the girl had gone silent.

Given the height difference, and thus the difference in gait, they reached the Doctor at different times. A punch was thrown, which the Doctor dodged, before two fingers were pressed lightly to his temple. The man collapsed, long limbs looking more awkward than ever as he did so. Another press of his fingers, and there was a much louder thump as the other body hit the floor. The Doctor sighed in resignation and dragged them, one at a time, up the stairs and deposited them behind the bushes. He left the door open.

Once back in the basement, he made his way towards the – still quiet – cage that held the girl. He looked in to find her cowering in the corner, wearing the same collar and chain Rose had been. Going by the beautiful dress she was wearing, she was being prepared to go to her new owner. He bit back a growl and soniced the lock open.

“I’m so sorry. I’m not going to hurt you. I’ve come to let you go. I’m the Doctor, what’s your name?” he said quietly, not entering the cage just yet as to not frighten her.

“L-Lily,” the girl said in a trembling voice.

“Hello, Lily. How about we get your out that collar and you can go home, okay?”

“O-okay.”

The Doctor approached her slowly and raised his sonic. She flinched, and he made a soothing sound as the sonic whirred and the collar came loose. He gently removed it and placed it on the floor.

Lily got to her feet shakily, and the Doctor backed up a few steps to give her some space.

“You have somewhere to go, don’t you?”

“Yes. I have family on the other side of the forest.”

“Good. Would you like an escort?” She shook her head. “I understand. I want you to run there as quickly as you can, okay? Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t stop for anyone. Be safe.”

Lily nodded, and moved past the Doctor and out of the cage. She paused, then turned back and hugged him briefly. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Of course. Now go; I’ll take care of this place.” 

She turned and ran up the stairs without a backwards glance.

Once she was gone, the Doctor pulled out the bottle of the fire starter and once again poured it in what he deemed key areas. He used a little more than he did previously, working backwards until he was at the foot of the stairs. Placing the bottle into his pocket, he surveyed the area in distaste before picking up the nearest torch. Tossing it away from him, he bolted back up the stairs before it even hit the ground. He heard the _whoosh_ of the IC-751 igniting as he raced out the door.

His expression hard, the Doctor watched the building from a distance as to avoid suspicion. It was now engulfed in flame, and beginning to disintegrate. A crowd had gathered, watching awe-struck or in horror – he couldn’t tell which. At least for now, no one else would become a “pet.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he turned and began his journey back to the TARDIS. His pace was brisk – this had taken longer than he expected and the berating thoughts that he shouldn’t have left Rose alone at all had created a twisted and gnarled knot in his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for still sticking with me.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments on the last chapter! I'm really glad you guys are still with me. Hope you like this one!
> 
> Beta'd by perfectlyrose <3

  
  
Curled up on the jump seat, Rose drifted off but her sleep became increasingly uneasy as memories of what happened bled into her dreams. As her subconscious conjured up the memory of one of the men licking her face, she jolted awake and looked around with wide, frantic eyes. It was a dream. She was in the TARDIS, but she could once again feel his drying saliva and smell his rancid breath. Her stomach heaved, she bolted down the hall to her room (which the TARDIS mercifully moved closer), and lost what food she hadn’t digested to the toilet. 

Rose collapsed onto the cold tile of the bathroom. She tried to ignore the lingering taste of vomit and burst into tears. Sobs wracked her frame and tore at her already raw throat. Her hands found purchase in her hair and she pulled, trying to ground herself from the onslaught of despair threatening to fill her lungs and drown her. The TARDIS hummed soothingly, soft caresses in her mind. Rose’s breath hitched at the comfort and she released her hair. She dragged herself to a sitting position, back against the wall, arms wrapped tight around her legs as her hands fisted into her flannel bottoms instead. It took several long minutes before she calmed, or maybe she just wore herself out – it was hard telling – but even as her breathing returned to normal, her body continued to tremble.

 _The Doctor would be handling this better_ , Rose thought bitterly. He had been through so much, especially with what he had told her of the Time War. Losing his planet, his people...it made what happened to her look so small and silly. How could that even compare? The TARDIS’s hum suddenly changed, and Rose got the distinct impression that the ship did not agree with that. Rose sighed. She knew the Doctor would disagree with her too, but maybe she still needed the vocal reassurance from him. 

Of course, that would require her to actually tell him how she was feeling and talk about what happened. Something she had been avoiding. But then, what was that quote from Goblet of Fire? It was something about how numbing the pain, how postponing talking about what happened, would make it worse when we actually let ourselves feel it. Dumbledore did have a point, she mused, and maybe talking about her trauma would feel similarly – extracting something poisonous. Despite herself, she smiled as she imagined the Doctor’s proud grin at her making that reference.

After brushing her teeth, she walked with shaky legs back to the console room to find the Doctor still absent. Rose worried her lip between her teeth, trying and failing to not think about what could be taking him so long. Did something happen to him? Was he in trouble? She took a few slow steps towards the doors, approaching them like she would a wild animal. What if he needed her? And here she was, too bloody scared to leave the TARDIS when before… _before_ , she wouldn’t have hesitated. She kept moving forward, body pulled tight like a piano wire, the fight-or-flight response screaming in her brain _(run, run, run!)_. 

Just as she managed to reach the coral struts, she heard the TARDIS’ hum change pitch and it caused her to stop. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the Doctor’s coat thrown across the usual strut. She glanced anxiously between the coat and the door, before moving over to grab the coat and putting it on. Breathing in his scent, her body relaxed and she all but ran from the console room and towards the library, trying not to berate herself too much for her cowardice on the way.

Once there, she pulled the coat tightly around her as she retreated further into the room, weaving through the rows of books until she came across a small opening where a giant beanbag was nestled. It wasn’t _actually_ a beanbag, but it reminded her of one and she could never remember what they had called it on the pleasure planet the Doctor got it from. It was incredibly comfortable, the outer material some sort of faux fur, and the pouting Rose had done when she’d had to get off of it was meant to be a joke. But then the next evening the Doctor had surprised her with one to keep. The look on his face when he showed it to her, as though he was nervous she wouldn’t like it, had made her want to pull him by the lapels and snog him senseless to show him how much she loved it _and_ him. She didn’t, of course. Instead she dragged him down with her and they’d cuddled while he read to her. 

It had become tradition, after that ‒ retreating to this little corner after an adventure and listening to his voice as it washed away whatever tension she had. She often fell asleep, but he never seemed to mind.

With the TARDIS’s presence, Rose was glad she wasn’t _actually_ alone, but as she settled down, she was _desperate_ for the Doctor’s arms around her. She felt surer every day that her very essence, made from the stars that died to bring her into being, somehow shared an origin with the Doctor’s. She’d never believed in soul mates, and with the Doctor it had felt that they were more than that. And now that they had found each other, there was no better solace than being near him. She somehow knew that no matter what tried to separate them, they would find a way back to each other. It was ingrained into their DNA, how to find the way home. 

With his coat still pulled tight around her, she was surrounded by his scent, and while it was enough to make _her_ feel safer, she worried about what was keeping the Doctor, and if _he_ was safe. 

\------

As the Doctor neared the TARDIS, her presence in his mind seemed to vibrate to the point of becoming a growl. He cursed under his breath as he pulled out his key and unlocked the door. He took a second to brace himself, eyes clenched shut, then opened the door and stepped inside. Immediately he was hit with the full force of his ship's displeasure with him and winced. 

“I know, I know,” he murmured as he jogged to the controls to get them away from this place. He noted with a pang of worry that Rose wasn’t in sight. But of course she wouldn’t be given how long he was gone. A wave of guilt washed over him, despite knowing he had done the right thing. Maybe he shouldn’t have left Rose alone so soon. But then, had he been any later, Lily would’ve met the same fate as countless young women and men. He shook his head roughly to clear his thoughts as he finished the dematerialization sequence. 

Once they were in the vortex again, the Doctor wasn’t surprised when the TARDIS shocked him at the first available opportunity. He hissed and pulled his singed fingers back before he raked them through his hair in agitation. Her annoyance with him was still incessant, even if it had lessened with the knowledge of what had kept him. He spun away from the console and took off towards the interior of the ship in search of Rose. 

The TARDIS immediately showed him the library, and her rush to bring him to Rose only heightened his uneasiness and guilt. 

_What happened?_

His ship filled him in as he navigated through the shelves, knowing where to find her. And sure enough, she was on the _Ellesime_. He was startled to see her in his coat, as the TARDIS left him under the impression she came straight here from the bathroom. Despite the irksome knowledge that something significant was being kept from him, he couldn’t help the surge of feelings that seeing her surrounded in his coat provoked. 

Of course, he’d seen her wear his coat before –she often got chilly when the sun, or suns, set on different planets, or when they were biding their time in damp prison cells—but seeing her now, sleeping in his coat that she actively sought out, filled him with overwhelming affection tinged with possessiveness. He forced himself not to linger too much on the latter. He’d felt it plenty of times, but it felt inappropriate at the moment.

The Doctor moved to join her, but hesitated. Rose seemed to be sleeping peacefully, and given how long she was awake before today…he didn’t want to wake her. He wouldn’t leave, of course, but should he pull up a chair instead? The TARDIS then gave him a telepathic nudge, and that was all he needed. He discarded his jacket and carefully crawled towards the center. The Ellesime didn’t transfer movement, so he reached Rose without even causing her to stir. He shifted onto his side, mirroring her position, and reached out to brush her hair out of her face.

“Rose?” the Doctor whispered as he let his fingers trail down her cheek. Rose blearily opened her eyes, and he smiled gently as her vision came into focus.

“Doctor!” Rose gasped, scrambling closer to him. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed herself as close as she could, nose squished against his neck. The Doctor’s forehead creased as he held her tight.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here.”

“I thought something had _happened_ to you. That you got into trouble and needed me to get you out and I tried, I tried to go out and find you—“ the Doctor tensed and inhaled sharply, horrified at the possibilities, but Rose didn’t notice and rushed on, words muffled slightly into his skin, “—but I couldn’t even reach the doors because I was too afraid after…after what happened so I grabbed your coat to feel safe again and came here and _I’m so sorry_.”

Rose was shaking, and the Doctor registered Rose’s erratic breathing as bordering on an anxiety attack. He gently rubbed her back, probably slightly less comforting than usual given the added barrier of his coat _(that she feels safe in)_ , and coaxed her to breathe with him. After a few minutes, and with one last slow exhale, Rose pulled back enough to meet his eyes. Hers were so red, and his hearts broke. Oh, _Rose_. 

Rose’s eyes flittered between his, searching them. The Doctor sighed, and reached down for her hand, threading their fingers together.

“I didn’t mean to worry you. Something the shopkeeper said made the errand take longer than I expected. But see? I’m all right. I’m back. Nothing to worry about. But more importantly,” He squeezed her hand and made sure she was looking at him, “there is _nothing_ for you to be sorry for, okay? _None_ of this is your fault.” 

“It’s not yours either, Doctor,” Rose interjected quietly. Blimey, she knew him well.

The Doctor opened his mouth to argue, but closed it again. As guilt-ridden as he was, he needed to accept that this wasn’t about him. 

“’S just,” Rose continued, now focused on their hands as she toyed anxiously with his fingers, “Beyond today, we’ve been in the vortex for a while now, yeah? And…well, I don’t…” Rose huffed, trying to find the words. “I’m sorry because me being like this is preventing you from doing what you—we—normally do: Finding trouble and setting things right.”

“The Universe can wait, you know.” He paused and infused some lightheartedness into his voice. “Time machine, remember?”

“I’m not more important than the Universe, Doctor.”

When they first met, Rose had asked if the world revolved around him, and then laughingly called him full of it. The truth was that yes, he was very important to the Earth, and also to the Universe. Last of the Time Lords. Something like a contract savior, as it were, though he would loathe to be referred to with such reverence. 

But Rose. His Fortuna, his Goddess of Time, had changed him in fundamental ways. Her presence and his love for her had made him better, had saved him, had been woven into every cell of this body so that surely without her he would unravel. And if there was one thing in this Universe he drew strength from, believed in, would do anything for, it was her. Before the Doctor could stop it, his thoughts voiced themselves. 

“To me you are.”

Rose’s breath hitched, and her eyes snapped up to meet his. Both were staring wide-eyed at each other, stunned into silence at his confession. A moment later the Doctor opened his mouth to apologize for crossing that unspoken line between them. Just this morning he had decided to put his feelings aside so he could help her heal. His gob, which was usually so good at getting them out of trouble, had undoubtedly mucked things up. But there was movement, and then a sudden pressure against his lips.

Rose was kissing him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your comments. I know I'm terrible at replying, but I treasure them all.
> 
> I do want to note that while it may take me a while to update, I won't abandon this story. So no worries, okay? Hope you enjoy the chapter!
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely perfectlyrose

  
  
  
The kiss was chaste and dry, and to the Doctor it was perfect. With a shaking hand he cradled her jaw, fingers gently tangling in her hair, and his hearts felt so full he was sure they would burst. Instead they seemed to stutter when he felt her hands in his hair, and he had to force himself not to groan at the feeling of her nails on his scalp. But when he felt the tentative nip at his bottom lip, he came crashing back to reality.  
  
_They shouldn’t be doing this. Not yet. Not this soon._  
  
He pulled back, breath catching at Rose’s soft noise of protest. Oh, that breathy whimper almost crumbled his resolve to not recapture her retreating lips.  
  
Rose stared down at him, hands having reluctantly left his hair and dropped to his chest as she waited for him to say something. She started toying with his tie, and while he knew the movement was at least partly nerves, he swallowed hard at the image of Rose using it to drag his lips to hers. Neither of them could keep their eyes from flicking to the other’s mouth. The Doctor steeled himself, rerouting blood flow as his body was dangerously close to showing Rose just how badly he wanted her. When he spoke, his voice was low and gravelly.  
  
“Rose, we can’t. Not--”    
  
Rose felt her heart drop and she interrupted, dreading his answer but needing to know right away.    
  
“Is it because of what happened?” She hated how her voice shook.  
  
The Doctor hesitated, and then nodded. He looked torn and apologetic, and Rose blinked back tears. Was he so disgusted with what was done to her that he couldn’t even give her a verbal response? She was afraid of this. But how could she blame him? It was understandable, him not wanting to be with her for that reason. She felt dirty and foul because of it; it seemed unfair to ask the Doctor to look past that just because she loved him. Maybe whatever had grown between them was now ruined too. Rose deflated and drew back completely, resolutely not looking at him. She made to get up, to run somewhere and beg the TARDIS not to let him find her.  
  
The Doctor felt a jolt of panic and reached out for her, hands gripping her hips.  
  
“No no, wait. Rose, please. You need to let me explain. Please.”  
  
Rose glanced at him, and his eyes were pleading with her more than his words. She stilled, and allowed him to pull her back down beside him. Her heart was pounding so hard she could count the beats as they reverberated through her. Over the noise she spoke to her hands, wishing her voice would stop betraying how small she felt.  
  
“It’s okay, Doctor. You don’t need to explain anything. I get it. What happened to me changed things. Not how important I am to you, but…” Rose paused, and then decided to finally voice it, “the attraction between us. The more-than-best-mates line we keep toeing but not crossing. And…and now it’s too late, because of what they did to me.”  
  
The Doctor’s eyes widened as he processed what she said and he scrambled for her hands. Rose startled and looked at him, and the vulnerability in her eyes broke his hearts.  
  
“Rose, that’s not it at all,” he rushed out, desperate to ease her mind. “What they did to you doesn’t change how...how much I desire you.” He released the breath he’d been holding at that finally being out in the open. “Blimey, Rose, you make me want things I’ve never wanted before. I want you _too_ much, and that’s not fair to you right now. _That’s_ why we can’t. Not now. Not yet.”  
  
Rose opened her mouth, not sure what she was even going to say, but then closed it as the Doctor continued.  
  
“I don’t know what they did to you before I got there. I worry about how it’s festering inside you. You know I’m rubbish at talking about things, especially feelings, and will avoid it if at all possible, but I’m not human. You lot don’t do well when you let everything build up.” He paused and ran a hand through his already mussed hair. “I’m not asking you to talk about it, but we need to figure out how to help you heal. Because I can’t...I don’t want to risk you.  And risk _us_. Okay?”  
  
Rose looked at him for a long moment, searching his eyes, then finally sighed and nodded. She reigned in her excitement at the Doctor’s confessions, locking it away for now. The Doctor had a point, though she hated to admit it. She wanted to be able to brush this off, jump right back into things like this was just a cut that the Doctor healed without a scar. But it didn’t work that way. She knew the Doctor had healed what he could in the infirmary, but this was something deeper, more menacing and relentless. She knew she had a long way to go, and the knowledge was sobering and heavy. A fear started to seep into her heart like venom: would the Doctor tire of the wait and leave her behind?  
  
She felt him slowly stroke her jaw with a finger, effectively pulling her from her thoughts.  He looked at her gently, and Rose felt the fear lose some of its power.  
  
“Why don’t you go take a bath and I’ll have tea and biscuits waiting in the library when you’re ready.”  
  
“Are you saying I smell?”  
  
The Doctor spluttered in shock, “No no no, of course not! I just thought it’d be soothing—“ Rose started laughing, and the Doctor was immediately stunned into silence. It’d been almost a week since he’d heard her laugh, even seen her smile. She hadn’t since he’d read to her. An undercurrent of dark, sinister anger resurfaced at those who took something so beautiful away for so long, who tried to take his Rose away from him completely, but he quickly forced it aside. He was sure the anger would never leave, especially while Rose was still healing, but those responsible had been dealt with. Instead, he focused on the joy bubbling up in its place, and he grinned in wonder at this magnificent human before him.  
  
“M’just teasing, Doctor. A bath sounds brilliant.”  
  
Oh, and there it was:  her tongue-touched grin. The Doctor could’ve kissed her, but was mindful of the conversation _they’d just had_ , blimey, and instead pulled her into onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her tightly. Rose’s breath hitched, and while she returned the hug with as much fervor, he knew she was wondering why.  
  
“It’s so nice to see you smile again. To hear you laugh. Having you tease me. I’ve missed it,” he said quietly. Rose sighed, and as he felt her body relax against him, he knew she felt the same.  
  
\-------  
  
While Rose dried herself off, she felt the TARDIS move and grasped at the wall to keep from toppling over. That’s odd. The Doctor didn’t say anything about leaving the vortex. He wasn’t going to leave again, was he? She tried to ignore the anxiety now settling in her gut and went to get dressed. On her bed the TARDIS had laid out her favorite pair of jim jams, and Rose glanced up uncertainly.  The lights flickered, and the ship’s hum seemed reassuring. Rose worried her lip for a moment, but then pulled on the jim jams and some slippers before leaving her room. She paused in the corridor. The Doctor said he’d be in the library, but since they left the vortex should she check the console room? The TARDIS made the decision for her and showed her the door to the library, so Rose walked in.

She found the Doctor on the floor, back against the front of the large sofa and surrounded by books. Rose noted fondly that most had scraps of paper sticking out in several spots. The Doctor definitely wasn't a dog-eared bookmarker. He looked up from the book he was perusing and grinned broadly at her. She could see the eye crinkles even slightly hidden by his specs. She found herself smiling back without the slightest hesitation.

“Rose!”

“Doctor!”

He chuckled as he shifted to bring his arm up and patted the couch behind him. “Come have a seat.”

She sat down as he pulled himself up to sit next to her, finger holding his place in the book now resting on his lap.

“What's all this?” Rose asked, gesturing to the books.

“The TARDIS helped me find some books that could help you.”

Rose flinched, almost imperceptibly, and the Doctor reached for her hand and threaded their fingers together.

“The psychology is admittedly fascinating from a scientific standpoint, but more importantly there are suggestions of ways to manage and heal. I've marked the ones that are consistently mentioned despite the different centuries that separate the books – which is brilliant if you think about it; humans are always changing but some things stand the test of time and biology, amazing! —and other, more specific ones that I think you'd be interested in. I’ll write them down later so they’ll be easier to locate.”

He paused, giving Rose the chance to respond. He watched her take a shaky breath and squeezed her hand in reassurance.

“I—I  don't think I'm strong enough to do this alone,” Rose said weakly.

“Wait, who said anything about you doing this alone?”

“Aren’t giving me these…coping mechanisms a way to distance yourself from having to deal with me?”  
  
The Doctor looked appalled.  “Of course not! Mind you, I have to “deal with” a lot of humans and other life forms, but you, Rose Tyler, will never be anything but a delight to be with.” He smiled gently and let the book in his lap close completely as he reached out to cradle her cheek. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly. Rose felt her eyes fill with tears at his sincerity, overwhelmed that she could matter so much. She leaned into his touch, and pressed her lips together to hold back the surge of emotions coursing through her. The Doctor rubbed his thumb against her cheek, then pulled his hand away.  
  
“Right! How ‘bout some tea and biscuits?” the Doctor said, getting up for a moment to pull the table with the tray back in front of the sofa, careful not to disturb the books still on the floor. Rose eyed the biscuits eagerly and reached out to take a couple. The Doctor followed suit, and they ate and sipped their tea (which the TARDIS had graciously kept warm) in comfortable silence, simply listening to the small fire crackling and the ever-present hum of the ship.  
  
They were almost done with their tea when Rose remembered her earlier anxiety.  
  
“Doctor, I felt the TARDIS move when I was getting out of the bath. Are you going somewhere again?”  
  
The Doctor frowned at her question, feeling a twinge of guilt. “No. Weelll, it’s true we’re not in the vortex, so technically we _have_ gone somewhere, but no, I’m not leaving. Besides, where we are is not a place we can leave the TARDIS anyway. Look out, yes, but not leave. Weelll, we _could_ leave, but I would strongly advise against it.” Rose looked bemused, and the Doctor smiled fondly. “We’re currently floating in a very specific area of space. I wanted to show you something.”  
  
He set their cups back down on the tray and stood, offering his hand with a grin. When Rose took it, he hoisted her up and started to pull her out of the library at a run.  Rose couldn’t help but smile; it had been a while since they’d run like this. They weren’t running for their lives, but whatever he had to show her, the Doctor’s excitement was infectious.


End file.
